


Scars

by ReallyAwkwardShipper



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drunk Prussia, Feels?, M/M, No Human Names, Originally a Oneshot, guess what happens?!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 14:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9903911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReallyAwkwardShipper/pseuds/ReallyAwkwardShipper
Summary: By his lips, by his strong arms, they just wouldn't leave. He had the advantage of hiding them. . . Or did he?





	

The sight of himself in the mirror was just depressing. Germany frowned even more by looking down at his own hands. The blond looked back up to the mirror.

   The remnants of the tears of yesterday were still there, but were going to hide once more since tears were starting to emerge, glossing his eyes.

   Scratch marks by his lower lip, nose and cheek were red and were pulsating by the second. Strands of blond, soft hair were falling into his line of vision.

   He used both of his hands to push his hair back, to just fail once more.

   He shook his head and went with his daily, boring habits. He went downstairs to see everything silent, empty, with nobody inside.

   He heard a door open ever so slowly and jumped, startled by the sudden noise in such a quiet environment.

   Germany turned around to just see a rather dazed and tired Italy. He sighed. The brunette looked up at the blond and gave him a lopsided smile.

"Buongiorno, Germania." He tiredly said as he went to the coffee to get himself an 'expresso'.

"Guten Morgen, Italia, seems like you woke up a tad bit earlier today."

"Yeah, mio fratello started taking up the entire bed, y'know? It gets rather uncomfortable..."

   He rolled his eyes at the thought of Romano just pushing Veneziano out of the bed. Besides, he kind of already knew since Italy had a red hand-like mark by his right forearm.

"Already going to go walking?" The shorter man came back with two little cups of expresso. Germany nodded.

"At least have something to drink before you leave!" Italy begged.

   The other shrugged in defeat and softly gripped on the little handle of the cup.

   He blushed and muttered something in German before drinking a little of the mildly hot, homemade drink.

"Danke shön... I'm going to leave, okay?" He glanced at the other.

   Italy smiled at Germany, thankful that he at least got some time with him.

"Don't worry it's fine, just be careful, sí?" The blond nodded and went out the door, and closed said thing.

 

* * *

 

 

   He felt pleasure and tranquility in running. Feeling the fresh air graze on his face. To be refreshed. It was one of the few things that made him happy.

   But today, he couldn't feel relaxed. He was actually scared.

   Knowing he was going to host the meetings of the UN, where most countries will attend, as they supposedly said.

   Apart from that, tomorrow he was supposed to finish paperwork from last week, to just get more of the dreaded item.

   And on top of that, his brother was starting to get addicted with that damn beer, and gets unhealthy drunk.

   That's how he got most of the scars that were earlier mentioned. Some of them, well... he did them himself.

   Germany sometimes couldn't cope with the stress of things. He would restrain himself to do such things at first, just to neglect that feeling, something he doesn't do often.

   Back outside, he was running, jogging to be precise. His thoughts began to cloud his mind. His train of thought clashed with his consciousness.

He was entranced.

   Germany was in some way controlled by his thoughts. The blond stopped in his tracks abruptly.

   He couldn't notice another person running rather speeding towards him.

_Thump._

   Both persons fell on the floor. Germany snapped out of his momentary trance and looked at who he clashed with.

He blinked dumbfounded.

It was America, or the United States.

_'What is he doing here?'_ Germany asked himself as he saw the North American nation stand up from the dirty road and cleaned his now dirty eyeglasses.

"Sorry ma- Germany? Nice to see you here! Here, let me help you." The older [1] man extended his hand towards the other.

   The European blushed lightly before accepting the offer and gave in his own hand. Suddenly felt a rush of air pass right through his face as the other raised him up from the floor with one arm.

"Th-thank you, America." 

   He cleaned himself of the dirt and winced a little, due to the fall making one of his bruises to burn and pulsate as small droplets of blood formed. But he ignored that and inserted his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"So, what brings you here, in the park?" The said nation asked curiously as they started walking in the way Germany was going.

"Nothing, just... doing my normal routine, and you?" His accent was thick, the American took pleasure in that.

"Nah, just refreshing my mind."

> _Hm... That's nice._

**×°•°×**

**Author's Note:**

> A.n: welkommen, my dear readers, to this 2-part story! I honestly, have no idea why did I make it... I just needed to torture my dear child. I am a terrible person... yay? Anyways, hope you enjoyed this first part, and see you all next time!  
> JA NE!~ •w•


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